


stay the distance

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Watcher Entertainment, Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Coming In Pants, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dubious Seduction Techniques, Established Relationship, Get together fic, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Polyamory, Relationship Negotiations, Romance, Seduction, Threesome, Wooing, blowjob, handjobs, threeway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Shane and Ryan attempt to woo one Steven Lim.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara/Steven Lim, Ryan Bergara/Steven Lim/Shane Madej, Shane Madej/Steven Lim
Comments: 44
Kudos: 192





	stay the distance

**Author's Note:**

> so look I've been dying to write some ghoulden boys (my preferred ship name for these dorks) and the watcher weekly recently had just...some weird as hell and chaotic as fuck horny energy, so here we are. I was especially inspired by Steve squeaking when Ryan touched his knee. this was mostly an excuse to write porn. 
> 
> HUGE thanks to Bee, who came up with the sports, caviar, and bible-related wooing and just gave me super helpful feedback, and then ofc thanks to Hannah for beta'ing, as always!!
> 
> enjoy!!

“I touched his knee.”

“I know you did, buddy.”

“I put my arm around him!”

“You sure did. Twice, even!” 

Ryan drops his head to the coffee table with a _thud_. “I touched his _hair_.”

“I’m still mad it’s not soft.”

“It’s probably soft when he doesn’t have it, like, loaded up with gel.”

“So, like your hair.”

“Yeah, but...but _softer_.”

Shane hums. “Maybe we’ll never know.” 

Ryan makes a miserable noise and finally raises his head. He’s sitting on the floor, slumped over the coffee table in misery, and Shane stares at him from his spot on the couch, Obi warming his lap. 

“Shane,” Ryan groans. 

“Ryan,” Shane groans back, a mimic. “You can’t drop a hand on a man’s knee and expect him to immediately know your every intention.” 

“It worked with you,” Ryan says, an eyebrow raised. 

“One, I was drunk. Two, _you_ were drunk. Three, your hand was on my _thigh_.”

“So you’re saying I should touch Steven’s thigh?” 

Shane opens his mouth and stops, opens his mouth and stops. Opens his mouth, sighs, and closes his mouth. “No.”

“No?” 

“Not yet,” Shane amends. 

Ryan sighs and falls against the couch, leaning slightly on Shane’s legs. “Why is this so hard?”

“Because it’s Steven. Because we really like him.” Shane drops a hand to Ryan’s hair and runs his fingers through it, mussing the already tousled mess. Ryan shuffles closer and leans his head back against Shane’s knee. His eyes are closed but his expression is pinched. Shane thumbs over his forehead and the furrow in his brow. “We’ll figure it out,” Shane says. 

“Was I too weird?” Ryan asks. Shane’s not even sure if Ryan heard him. 

“You’re always weird.”

“But was I _too_ weird?” Ryan opens his eyes and pulls away from Shane’s hand to scramble onto the couch beside him. The flurry of movement disrupts Obi, who goes running from Shane’s lap with a distasteful _meow._ “What if I was too weird?” 

“If your weirdness up till now has not scared Steven off, I think a little extra weirdness here and there will be fine. We started a company with the guy, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, but,” Ryan pauses, “it’s different.”

“It’s different because you accepted you want to go to bone town with Steven?” Shane asks. “I mean, is it _really_?”

“Yes!”

“How so?”

Ryan groans and falls back against the couch. Shane ignores him and his crisis and tugs at Ryan’s jeans until he stretches his legs out across Shane’s lap. Shane taps out a rhythm on his knee as the other man mumbles to himself and rubs his hands over his face. Eventually Ryan’s hands fall from his face to rest on his stomach instead.

“It’ll be fine,” Shane reiterates. “We’ll just...woo him. Gently.”

“Do you even know how to woo?”

“I’m excellent at wooing, fuck you.”

Ryan rolls his eyes but he’s grinning, a small and sweet thing. “I just don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“Well, I feel our track record as far as dating coworkers goes is pretty solid so far. No reason to think that’ll change.” Shane rubs Ryan’s knee absentmindedly. “Maybe try not to touch his knee, shoulders, and hair all in one episode next time. Take it slow.” 

Ryan sighs. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Build the anticipation,” Shane says, to which Ryan nods. Shane moves his hand slowly upwards from Ryan’s knee, but the other man doesn’t seem to notice right away. “Turn up the heat slowly, like, like a boil.”

“That’s not how you boil things, I’m pretty sure that’s a simmer,” Ryan says but Shane can see the splatter of pink across his cheeks. Shane keeps moving his hands and Ryan doesn’t stop him. He only asks, “Seriously?”

“I don’t know, maybe you need a hands-on lesson,” Shane says, and gets a throw pillow to the face for his efforts. Laughing, Shane tosses the pillow aside and resumes his hand’s slow crawl up Ryan’s leg. “C’mon, pay attention now.”

“I fucking hate you,” Ryan says before reaching out and fisting a hand in Shane’s shirt. “Get up here, you big lug.”

Ryan does not stop being weird, Shane notes.

Not that he ever expected him to, that’s just unrealistic. But he expected, maybe, for Ryan to tone it down just a little. He figured maybe Ryan would come in Monday morning with coffee for the three of them, drop a kiss to Shane’s cheek, and do a perfectly acceptable ‘sup nod at Steven before settling in for the day.

Instead, Ryan swans in, all smiles, with coffee for the three of them and some sort of jam-filled pastry for Steven—_only_ for Steven. He claps a hand on Steven’s shoulder and says, “hey buddy!” before returning to his own desk. Shane watches Ryan strut to their shared desk space, and he watches Steven stare perplexed at the pastry and coffee.

Ryan does kiss Shane’s cheek, at least, but that’s the only expected thing of the whole ordeal. The worst part is Shane can’t even talk to Ryan about it. Their office space is small, and Steven would definitely hear them—as would the rest of the employees, which Shane would very much like to avoid.

Shane pulls out his phone instead as Ryan boots up his computer. 

**to ryan: ** _the fuck was that???_

Except Ryan doesn’t reach for his phone. He logs into his computer and sips at his coffee and pulls up all his usual programs. 

Shane bites back a sigh and gently kicks his boyfriend under their desks. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to get Ryan’s attention.

Ryan jumps, and half-shouts, “What the fuck, man?”

So naturally, all eyes are on them. Shane lets his sigh out. “Check your phone,” he mutters before turning to his computer and pretending to focus on the screen. If pressed, he couldn’t even say what he has open. 

From the corner of his eye, he watches Ryan fumble for his phone in his jeans. Moments later, Shane’s own phone buzzes.

**from ryan: ** _what???_

**to ryan: ** _don’t you what??? me, you know what  
_ **to ryan: ** _the pastry  
_ **to ryan: ** _the shoulder touching_

**from ryan: ** _are you jealous??_

Shane takes a deep breath. 

“Okay, stupid question,” Ryan admits beside him. 

“Shh,” Shane says as Tony passes behind them, off to grab more coffee or something. 

**to ryan: ** _I’m not jealous but you said you were going to try and be less weird_

**from ryan: ** _I’m not being weird, I’m wooing him!!!_

**to ryan: ** _oh my god  
_ **to ryan: ** _you could’ve told me. it should be a dual wooing. i would also like to woo the Lim_

**from ryan: ** _it was a woo on a whim for the Lim. i was at a coffee shop, they had a mango pastry, it seemed like his style. i promise to consult you on future wooings_

Shane grins and rolls his eyes fondly. He looks up from his phone to find Ryan already staring at him, grinning and eyes bright. 

In true Ryan form, it doesn’t stop there. At least Shane knows about it ahead of time, so when Ryan says, “I’m ordering Postmates!” Shane knows what’s coming: expensive food from some place Ryan found with Google that will hopefully impress Steven or, at the very least, not make him ill.

Ryan swaggers into the office—and there is no other word for it—with a bag of food in each hand. “Steven,” he hollers, even though Steven is right there, “come get some food!” 

“I’m good,” Steven says without looking up. He’s squinting at his computer screen intently. His bottom lip is between his teeth. “I had a late lunch.”

“Dude, it’s almost six o’clock, we’re gonna be here for another hour at least, and I ordered way too much food for me and Shane.”

Shane shoots Ryan a look and Ryan frantically shrugs, rustling the bags as he does so. ‘Way too much food’ for the two of them would be a downright ungodly amount of food. Shane coughs. “What Ryan means is, we would like for you to join us and eat, and take a break from working your little blue business head so ragged.” 

Steven finally looks over. “You sure?” 

“Yeah, man, c’mon.” Shane waves him over and Steven wheels over. “Ryan found this place on Google, he’s been dying to try it. You heard of Crossroads?” 

“Oh, man! I’ve been hearing great things about that place.” Steven slides right up to Ryan and Shane’s desk, situating himself between their chairs. He looks at Ryan. “Jeez, quite a bit. I’m pretty sure you two could eat this on your own, though.”

“Everything just sounded...so good.” Ryan gulps. He sets the bags down and starts to unload the trays. “Like, uh, these!” He presents one of the dishes. “Artichoke oysters.”

Shane balks behind Steven’s back and asks, “Excuse me?”

“Oh, cool!” Steven turns and grins blindingly bright at Shane. “They’re crispy oyster mushrooms on an artichoke leaf with artichoke puree, and caviar! I’ve been drooling over these forever.”

“Caviar, of course,” Shane murmurs. Ryan passes the tray to Steven who pulls off the lid with gusto. “What else did you get, Ry?” 

“Uh.” Ryan rifles through the bags again. “The truffle bianco pizza, and braised turnip.” 

Shane holds back a sigh. “Great,” he says. “What do you say, Big Apple Steve? Time to dig in?”

Steven’s already chewing and one of the oyster things is missing from the tray. “Uh, sorry, did you guys want to do the cheers thing?” 

If Shane’s face looks anything like Ryan’s—that is, deeply smitten and fond—then it’s a miracle Steven hasn’t figured out the wooing by now. It’s been less than a week since the wooing plan went into effect, but still. Steven does in fact seem blissfully unaware. 

“Can you pass me a slice of pizza?” Shane asks, because weird food or not, he _is_ hungry, and they’re the only three left in the office. Ryan nods and passes a slice over with a napkin. It’s loaded with mushrooms and a dollop of something creamy on top and look, Shane’s a pretty adventurous guy, they ate some weird stuff for the triple-dub, but he can’t help wrinkling his nose at the scent of truffle.

“Oh my god, this is crazy,” Steven says, delighted. 

“Totally,” Shane agrees. “Crazy.”

He finally takes a bite at the same time Steven reaches for the radishes and Ryan pops one of the oyster things into his mouth. Steven’s so focused on the radishes he doesn’t see the face Ryan makes—Shane is pretty sure his boyfriend just went through all five stages of grief at once before settling on acceptance—so he doesn’t understand why Shane promptly chokes on his bite of the truffle pizza. 

“Jeez, Shane, are you okay?” Steven asks. 

“Fine,” Shane croaks, “totally fine, this is great. Thanks, Ry guy, good call.”

“Yeah!” Steven brightens again and turns his grin on Ryan, who’s still chewing his oyster and artichoke. “This is awesome.” 

Ryan gives him a thumbs-up and Shane is pretty sure Steven can’t even tell how feeble it is. 

“What about flowers?” Ryan says. 

“Mmm, no. He’ll think we’re just trying to decorate the office, or drag him into the plant killing feud.”

“Will you ever let that go?”

“Nope,” Shane says cheerily. “Chocolates.” 

“Doesn’t that seem kind of...cliché?”

“Says the man who suggested flowers.”

“Everybody loves flowers!”

“Everyone loves chocolate! Steven _definitely _loves chocolate.” 

“Last time we got him food we had to eat caviar and a truffle pizza.” 

Shane sighs at the memory, only a few days old. “Not your best move, Ryan.”

“Whatever.” Ryan hums and looks back at his list. He’s sprawled on the couch with a pen tucked behind his ear. “Chocolates _and _flowers? That’s pretty obvious, right?”

“That’s kind of heavy, Bergara, we don’t wanna scare him off.” Shane’s mostly teasing. At this point, he’s reasonably convinced he and Ryan could pay to have ‘STEVEN WE WANT TO DATE YOU’ written in the sky, and Steven would just think...something other than what they very much want. 

“Yeah, but what if he doesn’t get it?” 

“I have a novel idea,” Shane says. He sets down the rice-a-roni instructions and wanders to Ryan in the living room. “What if we just talked to him?” 

Ryan blinks. “No.”

“Uh huh, and why not?” 

“Because…” Ryan swallows, audibly nervous. “That’s sucky?”

“Yes, it generally is. It’s not nearly as fun as eating weird oyster dishes and going bankrupt buying him fancy pastries. But it’s also probably more reliable than worrying if he’s going to understand what we want when we give him flowers and chocolates.” 

Ryan slowly covers his face with his notebook. Shane doesn’t really blame him. 

“Why can’t we just get drunk and I touch his thigh?” Ryan asks in a voice that’s muffled by approximately one hundred and fifty sheets of college ruled paper. “It’s worked once!”

“You’d make a great scientist,” Shane says, “but this is not a science experiment.” 

“It kind of is!” 

Shane lifts Ryan’s legs and situates himself underneath them. “Let’s just talk to him.”

“What if he doesn’t want to talk?”

“Steven is very in touch with his feelings, I can’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t want to talk about how he feels. He would probably be deeply touched if we reached out to him and said we wanted to talk about our own feelings. It might even be enough to woo him properly.” 

“Wait, I have an idea.” Ryan sits up and sends the notebook skittering to the floor. 

“Oh no.”

“Hey, Steven!” Shane says cheerily. “Wanna join us for a game of the good ol’ b-ball?” 

Steven stops packing his stuff into his messenger bag. “Join...both of you? Like, at the same time? Together?” Steven asks.

Ryan makes a strangled noise. 

“Yes,” Shane says, “both of us. For basketball.” 

Okay, look. Shane still thinks the best option is talking to Steven, but he also knows Ryan is stubborn and determined and nothing short of a miracle will get him to let go of the wooing idea. Shane regrets ever mentioning the wooing idea, but he also doesn’t because it’s kind of fun. When Ryan had suggested this, it seemed great. Now, Shane’s a little unsure.

Steven kind of laughs. “It’d be kind of unfair if it’s me and Ryan tag-teaming you, Shane. I know we gang up on you on the show sometimes, but it’s just mean to do it on the court. You’d be totally helpless.” 

Shane talks over the wounded noise he knows Ryan to be making. “Uh, figured we could play Horse or something. Or just shoot some, uh, what are those called?” 

“Free throws,” Ryan supplies. “We could shoot some free throws.” 

Steven’s got his bag over his shoulder, hands gripping the strap, and his head is tilted curiously at them. “Uh, thanks, but I should probably get home to Simba. He gets upset if I get home too late.” 

“Oh yeah, totally get it.” Ryan nods. “I mean, you could always run home, change, and meet us at the gym by your place.”

“That’s…” Steven’s looking more and more suspicious by the second. “That’s cool, guys, but I’m gonna pass.”

“You don’t wanna miss Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Madej in action on the court,” Ryan says. 

Shane shrugs when Steven looks at him. “It _is_ an experience.” 

“He’s a big guy,” Ryan says, “on the court I mean.”

“Because what else would you mean,” Shane interjects. 

“Right.” Ryan nods.

“Uh huh…” Steven looks between the two of them like they’ve both grown extra heads. “Maybe a raincheck? Like, this weekend? We could see if someone else wants to go and do doubles!”

“Right, doubles. Totally.”

“I’ll text you guys!” 

“Sounds good, Steven!”

Steven gives them a wave, which Shane returns, before taking off.

A few minutes later in the Lyft back to Shane’s, Ryan says, “Don’t say it.”

“I gotta say it.”

“You really don’t.”

“Unfortunately, Ryan, I do.” He looks over at Ryan. “We should just talk to him. Then we could take him on _real_ basketball dates. Except instead of making me play, I could just watch you two be sweaty and aggressive.”

The Lyft driver coughs. 

“_Shane_,” Ryan hisses.

“We should talk to him.”

“No. I have another idea.” 

“What’s all this?” Steven drops his bag by his desk and peers at the folders sitting on top of his keyboard. 

“Spreadsheets!” Ryan says. “Cuz, you know, you’re the business guy.” 

“Uh huh.” He picks up the folders and flips through them. “What are they for?” 

“Just some stuff on the views so far,” Shane says while Ryan says, “Plans for my next fantasy football league.” 

Steven blinks. “Oh, cool.” 

“We thought we could go over them together tonight over dinner, y’know, as triple CEOs. There’s this new place in town that sounds pretty good.”

“Oh, we don’t have to do that,” Steven says. He thumbs through the folder, pausing here and there. “I can just take a look at these and email you my thoughts.”

“Aw, c’mon, where’s the team spirit in that? We’re all in this together.” 

Steven smiles. “Nah, it’s been crazy lately, you guys probably want a fun date together or something, especially since it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Uh.” Shane doesn’t really have an answer for that, since the whole reason they did the spreadsheet plan today was _because_ it’s Valentine’s Day. Now he’s second-guessing just how romantic spreadsheets really are. “Yeah, totally. I can’t believe we didn’t realize what day it was.”

“You guys were made for each other,” Steven says with a shake of his head. “It’s fine, I’ll take a look, and maybe you guys can get out of here early tonight for something fun.” 

Ryan nods. “Yeah, something fun. Totally. Thanks, Steven.”

“No prob, guys!” 

“We’ve tried food, we’ve tried sports, we’ve tried spreadsheets, we’ve tried _everything_.”

“We haven’t tried talking to him,” Shane says, kindly not pointing out that his hand is currently on Ryan’s dick, and Ryan’s still talking about Steven. He’s hoping that if he lets Ryan keep talking, it’ll steer somewhere sexy. He strokes Ryan a little faster but it doesn’t seem to make a difference.

Ryan isn’t even a little breathless when he says, “Wait, I’ve got one more idea.”

“Oh, for the love of—!” 

When Ryan walks onto their little Watcher Weekly set with a bible in his hands, Shane realizes the sensation filling his chest is a mix of both fear and dread. This week it’s Ryan and Steven on the couch again and Shane should’ve known that could only mean trouble. 

Shane nearly trips over himself to stand and stop Ryan before he reaches the couch where Steven sits, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey babe,” Shane says, even though he’s never called Ryan that around the office, and even Kate looks weirded out. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“We’ve got to get filming, big guy! Since you’re working on rewrites of your weird little...thing, I came up with something else to fill the time.”

Quietly, Shane whispers, “Why does that something involve a bible?” 

“I’ve got a plan.”

“Best friends and boyfriends share plans with each other. Especially when those plans involve something with their business partner and potential-romantic partner, and a bible.” 

Ryan sighs as though _Shane_ is the one being unreasonable. “I was gonna read him horny bible excerpts.” 

“Oh my god, we’ll be right back, don’t start without us, hahahaha,” Shane laughs as he forcibly shoves Ryan across the room and away from Steven. “Ryan. What the fuck.”

“I wasn’t going to like, be weird about it.”

“You’re already being weird about it.” 

“No!”

“Reading horny bible excerpts is not a feasible way to seduce Steven Lim.”

“You literally don’t know that.” Ryan shakes the bible, the _fwibble-fwibble-fwibble_ of its binding and pages swaying. “C’mon, he _loves_ listening to you narrate dumb shit, he’d probably eat this up if we did it together.” 

Shane is only a little ashamed to admit he considers it. Because he _has_ noticed that Steven likes it when he narrates things, like Puppet History and The Future is Unscripted. And Steven’s always seemed to get a kick out of Ryan’s theory voice. Shane glances at the bible in Ryan’s hand and takes it from Ryan.

“Not on the first date,” he says chidingly, “but maybe at a future date.”

“Oh, c’mon.” 

“No.” Shane turns on his heel and strides back into the office. “Sorry about that, Ryan was having a crisis, but we’re good.” He stops by his desk long enough to drop off the bible before heading to his chair on the WW set. “Let’s get this show on the road.” 

Steven looks at him, then Ryan, then back again. “...Okay.” 

“What...what are you doing?” Ryan asks as he climbs into bed. 

“Marking down horny passages in the bible.” Shane nibbles on the end of his highlighter. “Y’know, for future reference.” 

Ryan groans and buries his face in the pillow. Shane pats his back before returning to flipping through the pages. 

“The sooner we talk to him, the sooner we can enact your weird but probably not-terrible plan.” Shane shakes the bible for one _fwibble_. “Just saying.” 

“I know.” Ryan turns his head so he can look at Shane. He looks adorable with his cheek mushed against the pillow, enough so that Shane dog-ears the page in the bible and tosses it aside. “You really think it’d be okay?”

“I do,” Shane says. He rolls and rests his chin in his hand. “I don’t know for sure if he feels the same, but I think he does. And I think the worst that could happen is he says nah, hard pass, and then things are awkward for a little bit.” 

“But that would suck so much.” 

“It would. But I think it’ll be worth it.”

Ryan bites his bottom lip. “Pun intended?”

“Yes,” Shane sighs, “pun absolutely intended.” 

The day they reach 500k subscribers, the whole office gets spectacularly drunk. Shane doesn’t know whose idea it is, but he does know Ryan has had an alarming number of Whiteclaws. Shane sips on his third—fourth? maybe fourth—madras and observes his boyfriend with amusement. Across the room, Kate shoots him a grin and fond eyeroll, and Shane returns it. 

Currently, Ryan is going on about wanting another Whiteclaw, except Shane thinks he might be referencing _Toy Story_, which really doesn’t make sense but it doesn’t matter. The company is doing good, they’re having a fun time, and Steven is walking toward him, oh god.

“The Limster!” Shane declares. 

Steven ducks his boysenberry blue head and when he looks up again he’s grinning, cheeks flushed. There’s a drink sweating in his hand, full of ice and what looks like whiskey, or maybe rum. 

“Hey,” he says, raising his glass in greeting. “How’s it going?” 

“Not bad.” Shane shrugs and realizes how loose-limbed he feels. He gestures to Ryan, who’s talking Tony’s ear off. “Ryan’s clearly having fun. What about you, Papa Lim?”

Steven groans quietly and shoves at Shane’s arm. “I’m fine.” He admits the next part softer, like it’s a secret, “I’m a little drunk.”

“Shocker,” Shane whispers back conspiratorially. 

Steven nods. “So,” he says after a moment. “Ryan touched my thigh.”

Shane chokes on his ill-timed sip of his madras. “What?” He looks over at Steven, who’s staring at Ryan, who’s still talking to Tony. 

“Yeah,” Steven drags out the word in that way he does, awkward and embarrassed and just a little amused. “Do you, uh, know what that’s about?” 

Shane takes another sip to wash away the nerves suddenly burning at the back of his throat. “Potentially.” He downs the rest of his drink and swivels his head around to look for another.

A hand on his sleeve stops him from hurrying across the room to the drink table. “Shane,” Steven starts, and Shane thinks it’s very unfair that Ryan has started this mess and Shane is the one dealing with the aftermath. “Shane, I wouldn’t ever, like, y’know.”

“What?” Shane looks back at Steven.

Steven’s eyes are wide and earnest, always so fucking earnest. “I wouldn’t, y’know, hit on Ryan. Or like, accept when he hits on me. We’re business partners, all three of us, and you know I don’t have a problem with you guys dating because it never impacts the business, but I would _never_ do that to you.”

“And by do that, just to double check, you mean hit on Ryan. Or...allow Ryan to hit on you?”

“I, well, yeah. I mean, he touched my thigh.” Steven’s face burns a slightly brighter red. “And I, I didn’t tell him to stop. He stopped anyway, and then wandered off. But, like, I’m not going to pursue him, obviously, because you two—”

“Are together, yeah, we sure are.” Shane finally looks over to Ryan, and finds his boyfriend staring back. “Listen, Steven, maybe we should talk about this when we’re all sober.”

“No, really, it’s okay,” Steven hurries to say, even holding a hand up like a white flag of surrender, “I just wanted you to be aware.” Steven backs up and starts to turn away. 

Shane whirls around and catches the hem of Steven’s floral jacket, holding just tight enough to keep him from getting away. “Steven, wait,” Shane says and, to his delight, Steven stops. He doesn’t turn around again, but he doesn’t keep trying to flee. “Ryan and I have talked about this.”

“About...him touching—?”

“Your thigh, yes.” Shane tugs at Steven’s jacket and gets him to stumble a few steps back, closer to Shane. “This is why we should probably have this conversation when we’re sober. All three of us.” 

Steven turns slowly, not even entirely, it’s more like he’s looking over his shoulder at Shane. And his expression—god, his face, open and honest and, maybe, a little bit hopeful—makes Shane feel like maybe he should sit down for this. 

“I appreciate you telling me you wouldn’t hit on Ryan,” Shane says, “but just so you know, he’d be okay with it. I would be okay with it. We’d be okay with it.”

Steven’s mouth drops open and Shane can’t help glancing down for a split second. When he glances up again, Steven is blushing worse than ever. 

“So,” Shane says as he finally lets go of Steven’s jacket, “we’ll talk about this tomorrow, when we are all sober. Maybe over breakfast.”

“Brunch,” Steven says. He nods past Shane’s shoulder. “Ryan’s going to be...very hungover.” 

Shane snorts. “Fair enough. Brunch. I’ll text you, okay?”

Steven takes a long, deep breath. “Okay.” Then he smiles, small at first before widening into something brighter. “Yeah, okay. I’m gonna, uh, go talk to Kate, or something.”

“Okay.” He watches Steven hurry off. Steven shoots him one last smile over his shoulder before he does, in fact, go talk to Kate. Shane swivels around and strides toward Ryan, who has finally stopped talking to Tony and is now looking a little bereft in that way drunk people looking for amusement often do. 

Shane slides his arm around Ryan’s shoulders and bends to whisper in his ear, “let’s get out of here.”

Ryan shivers against him. “Okay.” 

Shane makes a quick round of saying goodbye to people and has to forcibly drag Ryan away from the cooler loaded with Whiteclaws, and then they’re hitting the cool evening air. Shane takes a deep inhale of the brisk air, his arm still slung over Ryan’s shoulders. He murmurs something about getting a bit of fresh air before they call a Lyft to take them to Shane’s, and Ryan agrees. 

“So,” Shane drawls, dancing his fingertips down to the sleeve of Ryan’s t-shirt and teasing along the skin there. They’ve been walking for a minute or two. “A little boysenberry bird told me you touched said bird’s thigh.” 

Ryan stops short and nearly sends Shane tripping over his own feet. “Uh.”

“I’m not mad,” Shane says with a laugh. “I’m just...surprised that you went for it.”

“Oh god,” Ryan moans. “He told you?” Ryan scrubs his hands over his face and stands stock still on the sidewalk. Shane’s side is cold without him tucked against it. 

“Yes, because he wanted me to know that he would never make a move on you, because he doesn’t want to come between you and me.” 

Ryan blinks. “What?”

“Right?” Shane lifts his arm and Ryan moves under it almost automatically, and they resume their walk. “He’s too nice,” Shane says, shaking his head, “he’s too...sweet.”

“He’s so sweet,” Ryan whines. Like it pains him. Shane can relate. 

“So I told him we should talk about the thigh touching together, tomorrow, when we’re all sober.”

“That’s smart, you’re smart.”

“I told you before we should’ve just talked to him.”

“Wait.” Ryan stops walking again, but Shane is a little more ready for it this time. “Did he seem… into it?”

“Well, he sure didn’t look like he was itching to file an HR complaint.”

“_He_ is the HR guy, how would that work?”

Sighing, Shane tugs Ryan along to keep him moving while digging for his phone in his pocket. Time for that Lyft. “I don’t know how it would work, Ry. But yes, I do think he was into it.” Lyft ordered, Shane looks over at Ryan. “What happened, anyway?”

Ryan’s cheeks flush with embarrassment, a different sort of pink than the cold air reddening his skin, or the blush of being drunk. “I, uh. Nothing even really happened. He was sitting on the couch, so I went and sat by him.”

“When even was this? You were a chatty Cathy all night, you were practically glued to Tony.”

“I think it was the last time you went to the bathroom.”

“Did...did you do it then because you knew I thought it was a bad idea?”

“...yes?”

Shane snorts and can’t resist dipping his head to kiss Ryan. He tastes like Whiteclaw, which, not the best. But his lips are warm under Shane’s and his mouth is hot when they deepen the kiss, scorching. Shane pulls back sooner than he would like to fondly say, “You’re an idiot.”

“Yep,” Ryan says gamely. “Anyway...I sat beside him and just, y’know, let my hand land on his knee. He didn’t react so I…” Ryan looks away as he trails off.

“Ryan, you gave me a handjob on location for Unsolved, _while the cameras were still on_. Touching Steven Lim’s thigh cannot embarrass you this much.”

Ryan shoves playfully at Shane. “Shut up! I feel stupid! I wasn’t trying to make him uncomfortable, I just...did it without thinking.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What happened? How much thigh we talking?”

Ryan splutters, half laughter, half embarrassment. “I got to midthigh before I stopped, and I think he said your name, so I bailed.”

Shane resists the urge to slap a hand to his face in exasperation. It’s about what he expected, but it sounds even more ridiculous coming from Ryan “Okay, well, I wouldn’t call it a good method, but Steven agreed to talk to us about it. So, maybe drunk thigh touching worked again. But the jury is still out till we talk tomorrow.”

Ryan nods and the Lyft pulls up just as he says, “So you _really_ think he was into it?”

When Shane peeps through the peephole, he can’t actually see Steven around the boxes piled in his arms. All he can see is a splash of dark blue, so he opens the door anyway. “Hey, All Star Lim, you know it’s just the three of us, right?”

Steven bustles his way inside with a roll of his eyes. “I wasn’t sure what you guys would want, and it all looked good, and I was nervous, okay?”

Shane smiles. “C’mon, let me help.” He takes the top two boxes, leaving Steven with a final box and the drink carrier. “Ryan is still waking up,” he explains, “uh, we could just set up shop in the living room?”

Steven looks at Shane’s couch with a seriousness that’s unexpected, but also not. If there’s one thing that Shane has learned about Steven, it’s that he has an intensity that rivals Ryan sometimes. Given how Ryan has thrown himself into figuring out ways to woo Steven, it’s not surprising that Steven’s regarding Shane’s couch like it maybe holds the secrets of the universe.

“No, I think maybe the dining room is better. Like, for Watcher Weekly, we don’t want to be struggling to look at each other, y’know?” 

Shane nods. “Totally. C’mon, dining room it is.” 

They’ve got the pastries unboxed and coffees sipped when Ryan finally staggers into the kitchen. His hair is a mess and his shirt is wrinkled and he freezes partway into the kitchen when he sees Steven and Shane. “Oh, we’re already doing this?”

“It’s nearly eleven,” Steven says, smiling. 

“Fair enough.” He changes his direction from the fridge—probably to drink orange juice out of the carton, the heathen—to the dining room table. Shane gestures to the seat across from him and Ryan slides into it without comment. Steven sits at the head of the little dining room table. Ryan reaches for his coffee and takes a long sip. “So…”

“Look, Steven,” Shane says, “Ryan and I like you, a lot.”

“Well yeah, we started a business together.”

“Steven.” 

“Gosh.” Steven sighs and then, in a move Shane hasn’t seen him pull since some of the darkest Making Watcher moments, lays his head on the table. He doesn’t lift his head right away and Shane shares a look with Ryan, equal parts amused and concerned. “Look, this is still pretty surreal for me, okay?” 

“Dude, I just woke up five minutes ago, now I’m in Shane’s kitchen with the two guys I like most, don’t talk to me about surreal.” 

Silence blooms after Ryan’s little confession. Steven still doesn’t lift his head but, underneath the table his foot stops tapping on the linoleum. 

“It is surreal, for all of us,” Shane says, “because, I think, we all really like each other. God, this feels so high school.”

“Sorry,” Steven mumbles.

“It’s not your fault, Steven, Ryan’s the one who refused to just talk to you and led us here by groping your thigh while drunk.”

“Again, it worked for me and you, I had no reason to think it wouldn’t work again.”

“It kind of worked,” Steven admits. 

“Did anything else work?” Shane has to ask. Not that it really matters because they’re here now, but he’s curious. “The fancy food? Offers of sporting together? Spreadsheets?”

“The spreadsheets were weird. I don’t actually like them that much, you know. I’m only the business guy because someone had to do it.”

“Fair, fair,” Ryan says, nodding. “But the food?”

“The sports?” Shane says again. 

Steven finally lifts his head. “The sports were funny, I’m still sad I had to say no.” He fidgets in his seat so Shane waits him out, and for once Ryan does too. “The food was cool…I just didn’t really believe it. We’ve gotten really close over the last year, right? So I figured maybe this is just what friends do, you know?” 

“I don’t play sports for just anyone, you know.”

Steven snorts. “Yeah, I got that. After I realized that you guys were...flirting, I still couldn’t really believe it. You guys are together,” Steven holds up a hand to silence them both, “I know polyamory is a thing, but it’s not exactly something you expect from the two guys who are dating each other and that you started a business with.” 

“Also fair,” Shane concedes. 

“Honestly, even if you had talked to me straight, I don’t know I would’ve believed you. I’m still not sure.” 

“We really like you, Steven. And I know me groping your thigh while drunk sends a certain kind of message, but that’s not totally what I was trying to do. I want to go on actual dates with you, and with Shane, and all three of us. Like, man, I want to go to Disney together _so_ bad.” 

A blush works its way across Steven’s face. 

“I want that too, for the record,” Shane says. “Less so the specific Disney thing, but other cute shit, sure.” He finally gives in to the urge to reach out and take one of Steven’s hands since they’re no longer wrapped around his coffee. Ryan reaches for his other hand, and then they’re all sitting there, like, “Haha, it’s like the seance.”

“Oh my god, Shane.”

But Steven’s laughing, shaking with it, and ducking his head. When he looks up once more, his eyes are nearly shut with how wide his smile is, and he’s squeezing their hands back. “I like you guys too. And I wanna do all that, too. There’s actually this new Korean restaurant near my place. We could go there!” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Totally.” 

“Also, I know I seemed pretty...weirded out by the whole thigh touching thing.”

“Which is perfectly understandable, that was kind of a line crossed,” Ryan admits. 

Steven’s lips purse. “I’m not some, like, blushing virgin.”

Shane casts a sideways glance at Ryan, who’s already shooting him the same look. Steven makes an indignant sound.

“I’m not! I mean, I _am_ a virgin, but I,” he falters, cheeks bright pink, “I’m not clueless.”

“You squealed when I touched your knee,” Ryan says. Shane kicks him under the table.

“Because you touched me!” Steven half-shouts. “A _lot_. Excuse me for not exactly knowing how to handle that.” Steven—Steven is pouting. His gaze slides sideways, away from Shane and Ryan. “You kept touching me, and sitting close to me, and I really liked you—I really _like_ you, we’ve established that, but you’re with Shane, so...I wigged out, a little. And I wigged out again with the thigh touching.”

Shane nods along. “Subtlety is not Ryan’s strong suit.”

Steven’s pout morphs into a small grin. “I never would’ve guessed.” 

“I’m ignoring that,” Ryan says, “you reacted like that because, because you liked it?”

Steven groans and hides his face in his hands. “Yes,” he says, muffled against his palms. “Also I’m a little ticklish, and you were dangerously close to a very ticklish spot.”

“Tabling that for now,” Shane says at the glint that appears in Ryan’s eyes. “Steven, whatever you’re comfortable with, that’s fine with us. Whatever pace, whatever stuff, we can figure it out together.”

Steven slowly drops his hands back to his lap. “So...if I said I wanted to, maybe, try making out for a bit?”

Ryan chokes on what can only be his spit, since he’s not drinking anything at the moment, and Shane clears his throat. “Fine with me,” he says evenly. “How about you, Ry?”

“Couch or bedroom?” Ryan asks.

They pick the bedroom, and Shane is glad for it. He’s also glad he got talked into an Alaskan King mattress last time he went mattress shopping, because it leaves enough room for them all on the bed but without much space in between. Shane’s laying on his side, propped up by one elbow and watching as Ryan and Steven kiss. Ryan is still only slightly draped over Steven, but he’s inching closer with each passing moment, and it’s driving _Shane_ crazy. 

“Jesus Christ,” he says faintly. Steven swats absently at his chest. Shane catches him by the wrist and tugs his hand close, peppering a kiss over Steven’s fingertips, then his knuckles, dropping a kiss to the center of his palm. 

Steven inhales sharply into the kiss but Ryan’s the one who moans. Steven leans back and Ryan breaks the kiss and the wet smack of their lips sends a shiver down Shane’s spine. 

“Steven,” Ryan starts, voice rough, “can we, can I, uh, do you—?”

“Yes,” Steven breathes and tugs at Ryan’s shirt. Shane swallows a snort as Ryan leans back enough to tug it off and toss it aside—but his laugh comes tumbling out when Steven gives him a knowing look.

“Shut up, you love it,” Ryan says as he finally scoots across the bed. He ends up at the end with his hands on Steven’s knees, which are drawn together shyly and still clad in frankly absurdly tight jeans. Shane watches Ryan’s hands inch a little past the knee, down Steven’s thighs, before drawing back, again and again. It’s as much as a reassuring gesture as it is a teasing one.

“Steven,” Shane says, “will you spread your legs for Ryan?” He dips his head a little lower, to get a little closer to him.

Steven nods wordlessly and his legs fall open. It’s so simple and so easy, but the sight has Shane’s cock twitching in his sweats. Ryan doesn’t immediately dart forward and situate himself between Steven’s legs. Instead he finally drags his hands down Steven’s thighs, slipping to drag his fingers along the inside seam of the jeans. Steven lets out a shuddery breath and Shane can see his legs twitching with the urge to move.

“This okay?” Shane asks.

“Yes,” Steven pants immediately. “It’s just a lot.” 

Shane nods understandingly and squeezes Steven’s hand, tangling their fingers. “Tell us if you need us to stop, okay?”

Steven nods and squeezes Shane’s hand back. His eyes are still shut and his blue hair is sticking to his forehead from sweat, and it takes more effort than he expected for Shane to drag his gaze back to Ryan. 

He’s glad he did, so he can watch Ryan’s awe-filled expression as he runs his hands over Steven’s thighs, a man obsessed. Eventually, slowly, Ryan moves his touch a little higher, almost to the crease where thigh meets groin. Ryan drags his hands up and deliberately over the bulge at the front of Steven’s jeans. 

Steven lets out a whimper and his hips buck up into the touch. Shane watches as Ryan puts a little more pressure behind his touch, and Steven bucks into it again. Ryan starts to reach for the button and zipper of Steven’s jeans when the other man gasps, wet and ragged, before he speaks.

“Too much.”

Ryan’s hands snap back to hold Steven’s hips instead. “This okay?”

Steven nods frantically. “Get up here,” he says as he finally lets go of Shane’s hand, grabbing for Ryan’s shoulders eagerly. Ryan complies and slots between Steven’s thighs perfectly. The angle lets Shane see between them where they’re pressed together.

Steven shudders so hard Shane feels it down to his own toes. “I don’t...I don’t know what to do,” Steven admits. 

Shane looks down at his flushed face, then to Ryan. He arches a brow, and Ryan arches one back. “You trust us, right, Steven?”

“Of course,” Steven says, voice caught somewhere between wanton and indignant. Shane smiles and Ryan covers up his snicker with a cough.

“Okay, just tell us if you need to stop,” Shane says again. He shifts down the bed a bit, enough that he’s not looming quite so high over Steven, and is instead at the perfect angle to bend down and kiss him—which he does. 

Steven makes a noise of surprise into the kiss but immediately presses up into it, parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Shane wants to smile or smirk or something, because the novelty of kissing Steven—who is so very different from Ryan, even when they’re absurdly similar—hasn’t worn off, not even a touch. Shane brings a hand up to cup Steven’s cheek, then trails his hand down in a feather-light touch against his neck.

Steven squirms and behind Shane, Ryan lets out a groan. For a second the room is still, and then Ryan leans forward, one hand balanced on the bed, and starts to rut against Steven. The motion is gentle and firm, not a fast enough pace to rock the headboard into the wall but enough to wring little noises from Steven’s throat each time. 

Shane drinks them in, pulls back to let Steven breathe and focuses his attention on Steven’s jaw instead. 

“Fuck,” Ryan moans, “you two look so good together.”

Shane smiles against the hinge of Steven’s jaw before biting down on it, just hard enough to ache. Steven’s moan is abrupt and loud and bleeds into an answering moan from Ryan.

“We’ve wanted this for a while, Steven,” Shane says as he moves to kiss him again. 

Steven tangles one hand in Shane’s hair, the other still flung out and clinging to Ryan’s shoulder. When the kiss breaks again, he pants out, “Closer.” Not a warning, but a plea. Shane looks over at Ryan, then at the bed, and Steven sprawled out. 

“We didn’t think about the logistics of this,” Shane mutters, “uh, suggestions?” 

Ryan blinks at him. “Uh.” 

Steven hums, almost like he’s waking up. He sits up slowly and Shane leans back and then all three of them are staring at each other. Steven looks between the two of them with his bottom lip tugged thoughtfully between his teeth. “I have an idea.”

Shane gestures for him to continue, and Steven does another ping-ponging glance between them. Then he reaches for Shane and urges him to sit up and against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. Shane’s about to speak when Steven clambers around his legs and into his lap, settling in like it’s nothing new. He looks over his shoulder and motions Ryan closer, shivering when Ryan’s hands land on his hips once more.

“This okay?” Steven asks. 

“You’re a genius,” Ryan breathes, hips already working in slow and careful circles against Steven’s ass. 

“This is why you’re the business guy,” Shane agrees as he finally gets his own chance to touch Steven’s thighs. He lays his palms over the denim-clad skin and squeezes lightly, feels the muscles jump under his touch. Steven’s pushed into Shane’s lap, closer and closer to his cock pressing at the front of his sweats, by Ryan’s eager thrusting. 

Steven’s eyes get wide as he finally settles over Shane’s cock. Shane can’t help it—he laughs. 

“You’re adorable” he says, leaning in to kiss the corner of Steven’s mouth. “Do you need to stop?”

Steven shakes his head and kisses Shane instead. He pulls back to softly say, “You’re proportionate,” before giggling. 

Shane feels a blush of his own burn across his cheeks. Ryan’s laughing, that stupid cackle, and he hooks his chin over Steven’s shoulder, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Right?” He says. “It’s great.”

Steven inhales sharply and licks his lips. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Ryan murmurs, “it takes a while to get ready for it, but it’s so…_worth it_.”

Again, the room stills. 

“I’m kicking you out of bed,” Steven says through his laughter. He shrugs his shoulder as if to shove Ryan off. “You’re terrible. Shane’s my favorite now.”

“Wait, does that mean Ryan was your favorite before this?” Shane asks.

“No!” Steven slaps at Shane’s chest. “You’re both my favorite.” 

It’s the kind of thing that Shane would tease Ryan for saying, and vice versa. But coming from Steven...it’s just painfully earnest and true. It makes Shane’s heart thud in double-time and for a moment, he feels like he might burst from the force of his feelings. The look in Ryan’s eyes tells Shane that he’s feeling the same way. 

“Christ, Steven,” Shane mumbles, “you’re too good.” He kisses the question off Steven’s lips and uses the hand still on Steven’s thigh to tug him closer. He rolls his hips up, tentatively, against Steven and gets a moan for his troubles. “Still okay?”

“Yeah, yes, perfect, uh huh,” Steven says with another eager nod. He loops his arms around Shane’s neck and rolls his hips, pressing back against Ryan and forward against Shane. He stops, shivers, then does it again, and again, and again. 

Shane doesn’t even really need to move—Ryan probably doesn’t either, but he’s too keyed up, Shane can tell, and Steven’s rhythm probably isn’t quite enough to bring Ryan off. His grip on Steven’s hips is almost white-knuckled and he’s grunting softly with each thrust and it’s like a chaotic, wonderful symphony, all for Shane’s eyes. The pressure and friction on his cock is just a bonus; hell, he might be able to come from the visuals and sounds alone. 

Steven’s eyes have drifted shut, and his mouth has dropped open, and Shane drinks in every little breathy sound falling from his lips. He’s so caught up in watching the two of them, Steven mired in pleasure and Ryan with the determined pinch of his brow, he doesn’t expect it when a hand covers his on Steven’s thigh. 

Shane will deny it later but he startles slightly, until he hears Ryan’s huff of laughter and he realizes it’s just him, trying to hold Shane’s hand where it rests on Steven’s thigh. Shane turns his hand slightly, enough to link their fingers so that their hands almost bracket Steven’s thigh. 

“Guys,” Steven says. His voice warbles and shakes. “I’m close.” 

“Come for us, Steven.” Shane drags his hand down from Steven’s cheek to his chest, to his hip, covering Ryan’s other hand as well. They’ve got him encased between their two bodies, trapped, except he _wants_ to be there, is eager for it, is going to come because of it. 

“Please, Steven,” Ryan gasps. His own rhythm is turning uneven, he’s close too, and Shane has to count backward from one hundred to keep himself in check. 

Steven’s breathing hitches and his hips buck a few more times before a full-body shudder rolls through him like a clap of thunder. He writhes in Shane’s lap, moans softly at first and then a little louder, and louder still. He’s still not as loud as Ryan often is, but Shane’s addicted to the sound all the same. 

Steven’s still panting and trying to catch his breath when Ryan’s thrusts speed up. Steven squeaks quietly and falls forward slightly against Shane, and Ryan follows. Over Steven’s shoulder, Ryan manages to kiss Shane, awkward, and he’s too eager to deepen it. 

“Come on, Ryan, your turn,” Shane says. Steven laughs against his neck and the vibrations are like an electric shock to his system. 

“I can’t,” Ryan whines and his thrusting slows. “S’not enough.”

“I think I need to tap out, kinda,” Steven says as he looks over his shoulder to Ryan. “Why don’t you sit here, instead?” 

“You sure?” Shane asks, but Steven’s already sliding out of his lap and settling into the spot beside him. 

“It’s still a front row seat,” Ryan points out as he clambers into Shane’s lap instead. He’s a familiar weight and Shane’s already reaching for the hem of his sweats. 

“Twist my arm, why don’t you,” Shane teases. “Okay, yeah, lets show Steven how we like it.

“Shane!” Steven’s face burns and he looks moments away from burying his face in his hands. It’s as endearing as it is hilarious, and Shane gives in to the urge to snicker. 

“What, Stevie-boy, you don’t wanna watch?” Ryan asks as he helps Shane push his sweats down far enough for his cock to spring forward, slapping against his stomach and leaving a sheen of wetness across his abs. Shane realizes he might be drooling and wipes as slyly as he can at the corner of his mouth. 

Steven swallows. “I wanna watch,” he says. He meets Shane’s gaze and then drops it to Ryan’s cock, pink and hard. “I wanna see you come.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Ryan groans as he reaches down to take his cock in hand. 

Shane extends his hand and pulls at Steven’s shirt to get him shuffling a little closer. “Front row seat,” he says before hooking a finger in Steven’s collar to tug him down for a kiss. 

He swallows Steven’s gasp and once he’s sure Steven’s not going anywhere, he slides his hand down to slip under the soft hem of Steven’s tee, resting against his warm skin and the gentle curve of his stomach. 

Between the wet sounds of their kissing and the sloppier sounds of Ryan working his hand over his cock, gasping, Shane almost misses what Steven says next. 

“You’re making it really hard to watch,” Steven whispers. 

“By all means.” Shane turns his head and kisses at Steven’s jaw, detouring to nip at his earlobe as the other man turns to watch Ryan. “How’s it going, Ryan?”

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan grits out. He’s got one hand on Shane’s chest for balance as he fucks into his fist. 

Shane smirks against Steven’s neck. “He’s close, you can hear it in his voice.”

“I hate you,” Ryan gasps, and his rhythm speeds up. 

Shane speaks next into Steven’s ear. “He’s going to come for us.”

Steven whines. “Yeah?” 

“Aren’t you, Ryan?”

“Fuck,” Ryan moans, “yes, fuck, close.” 

“C’mon Ryan,” Shane says again. He turns to watch as well, with his face still pressed close to Steven’s. Shane’s about to say more, goad him into a little bit—riling Ryan up never stops being fun, even at the brink of orgasm—but Steven beats him to it.

“Please, Ryan,” Steven says, all earnestness and honesty and sweetness. 

Shane watches as Ryan’s eyes fall shut and he grunts, groans, and shoots come over his fingers, his stomach, some of it dribbling down onto Shane’s pants. Steven shivers against Shane and as he presses almost too close, Shane’s pretty sure feels the heat of Steven’s erection against his arm. 

Ryan grimaces at his hand before wiping it on his sweats. Steven wrinkles his nose and Shane laughs. 

“He’s disgusting,” Shane says. Ryan punches him playfully in the arm—with his clean hand, thankfully—and Shane yelps. “Hey, don’t punch the guy still sporting a hard on! Especially not when you’re in his lap!”

Ryan rolls his eyes. “Oh, _sorry_, do you want help with that?” 

“I wouldn’t say no to a helping hand.” 

Steven snorts and shakes his head. “You two are ridiculous.”

“And now you’re stuck with us,” Ryan says. His grin is bright and wide and maybe a little deranged. “What do you want, Shane?” 

Shane wants a lot of things. He wants to fuck Ryan because the perfect weight of Ryan in his lap feels like a mean tease. He wants to watch Ryan and Steven kiss some more, could watch it for hours, files the idea away for later. He wants to fucking _come_, more than anything, and he’s caring less and less about how that happens. 

“How about your mouth?” He decides eventually. Steven shivers again and surprisingly, so does Ryan. “Oh, you both like that?” 

“Shut up, Shane,” they chorus together, and his dick twitches. 

Ryan’s smirking as he tugs his sweatpants back on before shimmying down the bed. He pulls Shane’s pants down and gets a hand around the base of his cock. “You learn quick, Stevie boy.”

“You shut up too,” Steven says as he licks his lips. 

Ryan’s eyes widen and his grin widens, too. Shane reaches out and knots a hand in his hair, urging him towards his cock. “Fine, fine,” Ryan says, parting his lips, “so impatient.” 

“Last but not least,” Shane replies nonsensically. Ryan winks at him before he’s sinking his mouth around Shane’s cock, slow wet suction until he meets his fist. “Oh, fuck, shit,” Shane hisses as he clenches his hand in Ryan’s hair. 

“What does it feel like?” Steven asks and even though it’s an absurd question to ask in the moment, Shane finds himself compelled to answer as best he can.

“Hot,” he says, “wet, fuck.”

“Helpful,” Steven says, “really helpful.” 

“Maybe Ryan can show you, some time,” Shane gasps out. Ryan’s fondling his sac and words are getting harder to think, let alone speak. 

“I’d like that.” 

Shane looks over to watch Steven press at the front of his jeans, desperate for even a little bit of friction even though he’s already come once. Sure, maybe Shane can’t formulate thoughts when Ryan relentlessly tongues at the spot just under the head at the same time he moves his fingers a little lower, but that doesn’t stop Shane from getting _ideas_. 

“Fuck!” He slams his free hand against the bed and tugs at Ryan’s hair again before pushing him back down and Ryan goes willingly. He swallows as he sinks lower, moves his hand from the base of Shane’s cock to grasp at his hip instead, and gets close to taking all of Shane.

“Holy shit,” Steven breathes. 

“Oh, god,” Shane groans as he comes down Ryan’s throat. His hips buck despite Ryan’s firm grip on his hip and Ryan gags slightly, pulling back with a cough and a little mess of white dribbling down the corner of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, Ryan.” 

Ryan grins as he swallows one last time. 

“Guys,” Steven says after a moment. “Uh.” 

Shane yanks his pants back up and Ryan scrambles to his knees.

“What do you want, Steven?” Shane asks at the same time that Ryan asks, “What do you need?” 

“Trying to one up me?” Shane asks. 

“Duh,” Ryan replies. He moves back across the bed so that he and Shane surround Steven on either side. It’s a tight fit, even as they all sink to lay down, Ryan and Shane on their sides and Steven on his back. 

“Whatever, this is about Steven, not some weird sex competition.”

“The two are directly related.” 

“Guys,” Steven says again. “I have a request.”

“Oh, fuck, go for it, Steven.” Ryan’s eyes are wide and eager and frankly, Shane doesn’t blame him one bit. 

“Yeah, Steven, let it rip.” 

Steven takes a deep breath. “Can you guys just...tell me stuff?”

“Like what?” Shane asks gently and maybe a little selfishly. Getting to hear Steven swear has already been a delight but Shane wants to see if he can get a little more. 

“Like,” Steven swallows, “like what you want to do to me. Please.” 

“Told you he likes to hear us talk.” Ryan grins at Shane over Steven’s heaving chest.

“So not the time, also I never disagreed with that.” Shane shakes his head. “Okay, Steven, we can do that. What are you gonna do while we do?” 

If possible, Steven blushes brighter. Shane also files the idea of seeing _just_ how much they can make Steven blush away for a later time. “I’m going to touch myself,” he replies primly, if one can be prim when he’s already come in his pants, watched one man jerk off, and then watched that guy suck off his boyfriend.

Really, if anyone can do it, Steven can.

“Please,” he says again, and then they’re treated to the sight of Steven reaching down, undoing his jeans, and slipping his hand inside his briefs. As he starts to stroke, Shane can see the tip, glossy wet and flushed, peeking out of Steven’s fist. “It won’t take long.” 

“That’s cool,” Ryan says, then admits, “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“I want to watch Ryan suck you,” Shane says, “I think you’d like it, so much. You’re so sensitive, it’d drive you crazy.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Ryan perks up. “You know what he’d love?”

“You eating him out?”

Steven hiccups, or it might be a moan, but his hand speeds up inside his briefs. 

“He’d lose his mind,” Ryan says dreamily. “God, I just really want to get my mouth on you.”

“You do have a weird oral fixation,” Steven comments, breathless. “More, please?” 

“Shane has great hands, he’s so good at fingering it’s insane. And he’s gotta take forever with it, because his dick is so big.”

Steven shivers. “Kind of intimidating.” 

Shane jumps in, bending to speak softer. “I just really want to touch you, stroke you, whatever you want. We just wanna make you feel good, Steven.” 

“Touch me, please,” Steven gasps out, “my thighs or hips or whatever, I don’t care, please, I’m so close.” 

Shane and Ryan move in sync—Shane lays one hand on the inside of Steven’s thigh and Ryan’s places a hand on Steven’s chest, thumbing at his nipple over the cotton. True to his word, Steven comes almost the moment they touch him, shaking between them and stroking his cock in a clumsy, uneven rhythm. Steven gasps, wordless wet sounds, and his hips work in tight, eager circles.

“Jesus,” Ryan murmurs as Steven finally starts to come down. “I don’t know if my orgasms are ever that intense.” 

“I told you, I’m sensitive,” Steven says as he pulls his hand from his briefs. He makes a face at the come splattered on his fingers, then turns to wipe it on Ryan’s sweats. “Can I use the shower?” 

“Sure, Steven, just one sec.” Shane tugs Steven back over for a quick kiss, then watches as Ryan steals on too. 

Steven’s grinning, almost giggly, as he climbs off the bed. It looks like his legs are shaking a little bit as he staggers out of the bedroom and toward the hallway. “Towels in the hall closet?”

Shane hollers back, “Yep, you got it Limberry.”

Steven snorts from the hallway. “That’s a new one.”

Ryan and Shane lay in silence as they listen to Steven grab some towels, slip into the bathroom, then listen to the pipes creek as the shower starts up.

“So I’d call that a rousing success,” Shane declares as he sits him. He’s sticky with sweat and probably remnants of Ryan’s come, and the whole bedroom stinks of sex. “Several of them, actually.”

“You’re stupid,” Ryan says fondly from the bed. “I can’t believe he was into it.” 

“You done good, Bergmeister. C’mon, I got some wet wipes we can clean up with so we can be presentable for when Limster gets back.” He turns and extends a hand to Ryan to help him off the bed, grinning when Ryan fits snugly into his arms instead. “We did it.”

“All cuz I touched his knee.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “Yeah, _that’s _what cinched it.” He kisses Ryan before he can protest. 


End file.
